Sunday, September 24, 2017

There are several because, in healthcare, you cannot combine certain items.

Most wards have one refrigerator for staff food, another for patient food, one for medications, and one for specimens awaiting pick up.

I check for comingling of items and that everything is labeled with a current expiration date.

You may have guessed by now that these rules are never followed.

At first, I was merely supposed to check each refrigerator, note the problems on a special form, and submit my findings to the Powers That Be. One day, the nursing director stopped me and said, "You know, I've been meaning to ask you. All these problems you find, you fix them, right?"

"No," I answered. "As explained to me, my role is to forward the completed form to supervisors, including you. I was told by you and others that I am not to confront anyone about any problems I find."

"Oh," she said and paused. "I thought you were supposed to be fixing all these problems. Well, I get the part about you not telling people what to do, but there are ways you could tell them without being bossy. Work on that. Try being nicer to people and they will do what you want. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Ever hear that?"

I didn't bother to try to explain to her why this will not work with this population. If they wanted me to go around and fix problems, that should have been the assignment. Not "inspecting" and completing a form.

At the next inspection, my strategy was to show the offending items to the nurse in charge and leave it up to her what to do. The reactions varied.

1- "Since when were you put in charge? I don't have to do a thing you say."
2- "Why bother? You write me up all the time and I have nothing to do with anything in any refrigerator."
3- "If you are so concerned, fix it yourself. Isn't that your job? To fix the stuff in the fridges?"

I told my immediate supervisor. She maintained, "You are not there to fix their mistakes." But she added, "You could educate them about the rules. Print out copies of the policy and give it to them."

No. There is an education department. Those nurses get paid a lot more than I do. The rules are taped to the door of every fridge. They toss medications wherever is convenient and store their lunch in the fridge closest to their workstation.

I feel caught in the middle, as if I will be blamed if the hospital is cited for a refrigerator violation because I was supposed to clean up behind irresponsible people.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

I didn’t want my wage reduction to go unchallenged. (Unlike
other nurses, I was informed that I would no longer receive additional money to
cover certain higher paying departments.)

Receiving less money interferes with my mantra I repeat to myself all day as one bad thing after another happens:

"I work here for the paycheck and health insurance. Nothing else."

I decided against going to
my union for three reasons.

1-They might
already know. Management may have asked
for and received their blessing. The
joke would be on me.

2-The union would
side with the hospital, not me. They
have never “won” a dispute for me. The union acts more as a mediator who leans in the hospital's favor instead of being my advocate.

3-When other nurses
start getting their wages reduced and complain to the union, the hospital can
cite me as a bonafide case of why this is acceptable. If the union knows about (and approved) my
wage reduction, it will make it difficult to advocate for their favorite
children. If the union does not know
that my wages were reduced, they will get angry at me for not telling them and
inform me that I put them in a position that makes it difficult to argue to
restore salaries of other nurses. Good.

I emailed the director of
the hospital to have in writing why my salary was being reduced.

He answered me. It was nonsense logic. He wrote that my salary was actually raised a
few years back when I moved from the floor into an office, so that negates any
requirement for the hospital to pay me extra for covering other departments;
that extra money is for ward nurses only when they are floated to cover an office.

I responded that my salary
was not raised and that I am still classified as a ward nurse and that I work on the floor whenever told to do so.

He responded that I am “considered
management,” so I cannot have anything other than my base salary, but since I
consider myself a ward nurse, I will be assigned a ward and have to work
holidays and swing shifts.

As if I were being punished for objecting to my salary
being decreased.

I responded that I am not
considered management by anyone. I still
report to the shift supervisor like the rest of the ward nurses. And I am not paid according to the salary
rubric for upper level nurses in the union contract.

He wrote back that he
would look into it.

It would be funny if they
tried to cheat me out of a few extra dollars and ended up having to pay me
thousands for the years that I’ve been mainly an office nurse, but paid as a
ward nurse.

This will not happen.

I’m glad that I objected
to getting screwed over; however, it may have blown up in my face. At first I was upset that I made matters
worse. But then I read a blog post by
the Maverick Traveler:

Monday, September 4, 2017

For years I have covered a department within the hospital a few days per month on average. Any nurse when covering this department gets a few dollars extra per hour.

The Director of Nursing called me into her office and told me that someone in payroll reviewed me and that I would no longer be receiving the extra money because "it's your job and you shouldn't get paid extra to do your job."

"Just me, or all the nurses who cover?" I asked.

"Just you," the Director said.

"Since when did it become my job, especially since I have had no raise to bring me anywhere near what that department pays its regular nurses?" I tried.

"Listen," she said, "I know you are mad. But there were emails. The director of the hospital agrees, as does your union."

Of course my union was consulted and agreed to screw me over. "Take money away from Nurse Enid? Wonderful! Where do we sign?" was probably their reaction.

"I never got any emails about this," I said.

"Not you. Other people emailed and made this decision," she explained.

"Could I have copies for my grievance?" I asked.

She didn't say anything.

"I'm grieving this. You can't take money away from me, especially when you're not doing it to anyone else," I told her.

This is what makes me upset. I do a good job. This clerk did not. I'm not asking for anything extra. I'm asking to keep the money I'm already earning. The hospital would not do this to that clerk because she would harass them until they reversed their decision.

I guess I have to do the same.

When others hear about this, which they always do, I will look like more of a pushover. "They could never do that to me" will be said to me by people I barely know.

Monday, August 21, 2017

There is little rhyme or reason to what I audit versus what I don't audit, but that is not surprising in this disorganized place.

Whatever I audit is a confused, contradictory mess with no hope of getting resolved.

Patient allergies, for example.

Patients are usually confused and evasive upon admission due to drugs (prescribed and street), their mental illness (usually schizophrenia), and their overwhelming desire to not be locked up on the psych ward (completely understandable).

A patient may provide one set of allergies to the nurse and a different set to the doctor. Or claim an allergy to a medication that ruins their high or does not make them high.

As a result, my audits reveal a multitude of allergies, none written consistently throughout the chart, and none sourced.

Getting someone to address the matter is futile. Yet my supervisor continues to ask, "So, you fixed the issue with the allergies on So-and-So, right?"

Well, no. How can I? People shrug their shoulders and either claim they have no idea why they wrote a certain allergy, or claim that "the pharmacy" or "the patient" told them that, so they have to write the allergy. But not who gave them this information or when.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

I'm confused about what I'm supposed to be doing. I don't know who my direct supervisor is. Other people are around, but we are not in the same department.But it is so nice to not see the people from my prior work area.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

They were hired together 25 years ago. Combined with their advanced age, they have reached a magical situation only possible under the old retirement plan: They can retire. Leave. Collect money for not working.

This is not the retirement plan for me and others hired within the last two decades. Actually, we have no retirement plan.

These people include a supervisor, a woman from my work area, and a secretary who is bonkers. They are all nasty, lazy people who need to leave.

I understand that they are unemployable outside this Snake Pit.

But I am going to remind them whenever they open their mouths against me that they don't need to be here anymore. They are working when they could be sitting at home, not aggravating me, and still collecting a check for it.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

My assignment one day was to check charts on the ward
where Nurse Fortune was gracing her presence.
I survived. I’m proud. I did have flashbacks to our prior horrible years, where I felt hostage to her wrath.

She watched me in the chart room the entire
time. Non-stop complaining on her end.

Politics: “Your
President” she kept stating, as if I alone decide on the president of the
country and people who complain don’t have him as president.

Work: “I know so
much about all these patients, it makes me sick. Nobody else knows what they are doing.”

Family: “How can
they say that my son is a behavioral problem?
Oh, he yells and talks back. He
fights. He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t do the work. Not my son.
I mean, where would he learn that behavior? Not from me.
If that’s what he does in school, which I don’t believe, then he learned
it at school so they should take a serious look at themselves.”

I feel bad for any child of hers. She’s a jerk. She’s the only one who doesn’t see her
behavior and attitude reflected in her child.

Another issue is that I keep all of my current duties, plus extra as added by Nurse Sally. Not sure when I get to sit at my new table/desk, which is nowhere near where I need to be to schedule appointments, procedures, and to do rounds with doctors.

I did some paperwork from the charts as requested. When I handed it to Nurse Sally, she said to give it to her secretary. Her secretary occupies one of the tables near my new table.

The secretary glared at me when I handed her the papers. (I had the foresight and experience to make copies first.) "Listen," she started, "Don't go thinking that you are going to make more work for me."

"Sally told to research these issues and fill out these forms and give them to you," I explained. "That was my assignment."

"Well," she huffed, "You could have said 'no'."

"Actually, I'm not in a position to refuse an assignment," I tried.

"So because you do whatever anyone tells you, now I have more work?" she sneered. "Does that seem right to you?"

This is a hopeless cycle everywhere in this hospital.

"Take your own advice and refuse to do it," I told the secretary.

"I didn't ask you to tell me what to do, thank you very much," she snapped. "Let's get that straight right now. You don't tell me what to do. You don't give me work. You are not my supervisor. Don't even speak to me. Got it?"

I left and returned to my previous (or current?) work area. There, I realized that no provisions were made for my addition to that department. The "desk" I used varied from day to day and was a table or counter where I could spread out papers to work on them. My supervisor and the other employees had cabinets dedicated to their personal stuff, while she told me that I could not keep anything in the office, including pens I needed to write with.

If people ask, I'll tell them that there was not enough work in my current department to justify two nurses, so I was reassigned.

I will not allow myself to get excited about this move because it may not happen.

The Details: There is no time frame for this move, but my new assignments begin immediately, while my existing workload will remain my responsibility.

"So this is adding more work and not actually granting my request for a transfer?" I asked to confirm.

They fidgeted. "Well," one of them offered, "You are so great at what you do, so we need you to advise us on modifying care plans."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Give suggestions on how to improve them," was the answer.

I didn't prolong the meeting. Whatever they want from me, they won't say directly.

Later I bumped into the secretary of one of the women from the meeting.

"Did they tell you that they expect you to fix every care plan?" she asked.

"Not in those words," I answered.

"Yeah, we had a meeting earlier today and someone suggested that you be given the assignment of doing care plans because the nurses aren't filling them out or updating them," she explained. "They said, 'Get Enid involved. She loves to fix things.'"

They spoke as if I would be altering the format of the care plans, not actually doing them myself. That's what they meant by 'modify.' Writing the content of the care plans for each individual patient. This is not possible. I don't know each patient. There are hundreds of patients. The nurses taking care of the patient have to write the care plan based on the individual patient's needs and goals and update them when a new problem arises.

They are sneaky. They did the same thing with emergency services, first pretending that they wanted me to improve the policy when all they wanted was for me to take blame for incidents.

Monday, June 5, 2017

On a breezy, sunny day, I walked through the parking lot,
holding onto the hat on my head.

Inside, an employee asked me why I was holding my head
outside, “As if your head would come off!” she laughed.

“My hat,” I explained.
“My hat would blow off my head.”

“Why would your hat blow away?” she asked, genuinely
confused.

“Because of the wind,” I explained. Did she just land on planet earth?

She did not understand.

The next day, an employee who was present for the above
exchanged approached me.

“You know,” she said, “I was walking outside and it was
windy. I noticed that I put my hand on
my head so that my wig would not blow off!”

I stared at her.

“I thought it was strange when I heard that you had your
hand on your head because you thought your hat would blow away. But now I realize that I do the same thing!” She seemed quite proud of herself for
connecting her reaction to a stimulus.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

I joined a friend at her place of work on her lunch break. She can’t leave, but she can have
visitors. Some of her coworkers joined
us.

A woman marched herself through our group, loudly
clapping and shouting, “Come on! Get to
the conference room for the celebratory lunch!
I’m starving!”

One of the women stood up to follow.

“We already stopped in,” my friend said as she motioned
for the coworker to sit back down.

The interrupting woman grabbed the arm of the person about to sit,
shouting, “I have to talk to you NOW. In
private.”

“Let go of her!” my friend snapped. “We are on our lunch break. You can meet with her after lunch. I thought you said you were ‘starving’.”

The woman looked around the group and left.

“Should we have gone with her?” someone asked.

“No,” I said. “I
recognized the bullying based on my own workplace. She wants to break up any cohesion.” I turned to the woman who had stood to
follow, the one who was grabbed and
pulled.

“You appeared to be the weakest
because you obeyed her order to leave, then someone else’s order to sit. So she upped her abuse by putting her hands
on you to see how far she could push you without you pushing back. She crossed a bold line. Yell at her to take her hands off you.”

“I’m not strong. I
can’t do this,” the woman replied.

“I know,” I said. “It’s
not easy. Later, find her when she is seated, and
with some witnesses, remain standing and calmly tell her that she is never to put her hands on you
again. Don’t wait for her response,
which will be acting shocked and claiming that you are lying. Depart immediately, leaving an image in the
witnesses’ minds of her attacking you.”

Good or bad advice?

I want to make it clear that I do not blame the victim. She seemed weaker and that is why she was chosen. But the aggressor chose to attack. We were all in the room with this more susceptible person and we did not attack her. She was bullied because the perpetrator thought she could get away with it. Normal people don't go around attacking vulnerable people.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

I covered an office so that one of the administrative
nurses could get ready for an event at the hospital. The position requires heavy phone time.

Other administrative nurses (how come some people are
saddled with back-breaking work while others get to play all day?) crowded
into the office, giggling and shouting and otherwise making it impossible
for me to hear on the phone, nevermind concentrate. The workload was heavier than usual because
the secretary was out sick.

One of the nurses commented, “I’m so glad your secretary
isn’t here. We could never have done
this with HER in here.”

That was it. They
wouldn’t dare do this to the secretary, but I am what? Garbage to be disregarded?

“Ladies,” I shouted over their loud bantering, “I can’t hear
on the phone. Please!”

The nurse whose office it was replied, “Well, that is how
it is. This is a busy hospital. If you can’t cope, you’ll never get far.”

“Your noise level is not reflective of the hospital’s
busyness, but rather your lack of work.”

They stared at me, surprised.

“Why am I in here, trying to do your work, while you sit
there, chit chatting? I have my own
assignments to complete.” Then I threw
in the magic words to get them out. “I’ll
go work on a floor until you are ready to actually leave for the event.”

The nurse whose office it was shooed the rest out. “We all have work to do,” she said to me.

“So do it,” I said.

I could only get away with this because this particular
nurse is so incompetent that senior management has taken notice. She reports me every time I cover her office, so management has to review my performance. Every Damn Time. They told me that I am much better at the
job than she is. This does not matter
because they will never bump her out of her high-paying position and give it to
me. Our salaries are in the union contract, so
this is how I know that she earns almost double what I do.

The woman left eventually.

When I returned from lunch, she was in the office,
staring into space. “Oh, this doctor
called for you. Here is his number.”

The torn piece of paper did not have enough digits to be
a phone number. “What did he want?” I
asked.

“How would I know?” she asked, bewildered. “You are the one working in this office
today.”

This woman is impossible.

“Let me get this straight,” I started. “This is your full-time position. I am covering for you today, even though you
are in the office. A doctor calls. You know what he wants because you work on
his caseload. But instead of answering
his question, you tell him that I will call him back. I can’t help him. I would have to waste time looking through
the piles of papers, hoping to find the patient he’s
calling about. Even if I found the
patient’s file, I still couldn’t help the doctor because you don’t put notes on
anything, so I have no clue about the status of any file in this office. And you think that was an appropriate
response you gave to the doctor? Why did
you answer the phone if you had no intention of assisting the caller?”

She couldn’t follow all these words. “Well, just make sure you call him back. You shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

My heart sank. Had
I misunderstood? Did I have to keep
seeing her every day?

“How can I retire on the meager pension they offer here?”
she sneered. “We aren’t all made of
money like you.”

Ah yes. This prevalent
misconception that I am independently wealthy and work at the hospital merely
to take a salary away from a needy person.

I let it slide, concentrating on my future without this
particular person.

“I had to retire from this job because my daughter has to
return to work so soon after having a baby,” she quipped.

Oh- she is upset about a family situation but projecting
her anger onto me instead.

“I didn’t know. Congratulations
on the new baby!” I said.

“Yeah, right,” she continued. “You’ve been spreading my business all over
this hospital for years and now you’re gonna stand there and tell me you didn’t
know my daughter had a baby. BULL SHIT.”

Once the cursing started, I figured I was justified in
walking away. Or cursing back, but we
were within earshot of witnesses, who would later recall only my
transgressions.

This caught me by surprise. I knew the conversation was sliding downhill
fast and that I couldn’t rescue it, but I was not expecting this. This is why she has been so nasty to me over
the years? She thinks I spread her
business around the hospital?

First, I don’t know her or her business. I know her name and that she has some adult
children, but that is all. Second, I
barely talk to anyone unless I have to about hospital business.

Thursday, June 1, 2017

One of the administrative nurses, Natalie, tried dumping
a hopeless paperwork project on me. Only
my direct supervisor is my boss, so the technique is for the dumper to command
me through my supervisor.

“Oh just do it and hush!” my supervisor told me.

Well, I didn’t.

My supervisor and/or Natalie reported me to one of the
big wigs, who ambushed me one afternoon.

I remained calm. I
briefly explained that I do not work in the department that is claiming that I
did not do an assignment.

The big wig appeared disinterested. “Oh, okay, so don’t do their work then,” she
grumbled, and left.

That went well? I wondered.

Soon Natalie called.
“I understand that you did not do the assignment and that you are upset
with me,” she started. “This is only
paperwork. There is nothing to get
emotional about.”

Sunday, May 28, 2017

I found out afterwards from pictures on FaceBook. People outside the department were invited.

They kept this so hush-hush that I did not know in advance. This scares me. They could be actively planning their next attack on me and I would have no clue.

The next day, I wanted to hear their reactions when I asked if we were going to have a retirement celebration for the secretary. "Will it be at a restaurant, or will it be here? If it's here, I'll bake cookies or cupcakes in her favorite flavor." This was my line.

The person who works closest with the retiree blushed and looked down. "Oh, she doesn't want any fuss. Definitely no party." She would not make eye contact with me.

"I see," I replied.

I sprinted to my immediate supervisor, Linda, before the first one could tip her off.

"Are we having a retirement celebration?" I asked.

She looked at me as if I were crazy. She didn't have to fumble for words. "We already went out and celebrated her retirement. Why would we do that twice?" she sneered, not even concerned that I was left out.

"I didn't know that you already had a party," I replied, trying to sound hurt.

"That's because you were not invited," she snapped, never stopping to shuffle her piles of papers.

***

Working as an outsider is not an unfamiliar situation to me, but it is stressful. They can ban together and have me ousted. My friend told me to not worry, that they tried that before; I prevailed then and I will prevail if it happens again.

If they replace the woman who is leaving (as opposed to dumping her tasks on me), maybe that person will not side with the crowd against me. They don't like new people, so that could be my strategy to align with the new secretary- offering her the only friendly hand she'll see in that place.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Nursing is a small world. You might leave a job, but you can never leave all of your coworkers behind at that job.

I was shopping at a food store (essentials only- no spare cash here) when I bumped into a nurse I worked with a lifetime ago. We reviewed who died since we last saw each other.

Then we declared where we currently worked. She asked if I work with Nurse Helen. I confirmed. We both smiled. I said, "I wondered where else Helen worked. She would never tell me. Does she work there every day? Because that is her excuse for needing to leave early every day," I said.

The other nurse smiled. "No, she doesn't work with us every day. As a matter of fact, she always has to leave early," the other nurse informed me.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

I was coordinating the transfer of a patient to a secure ward when I hit a snag. The hospital requires the vital signs in writing; not given orally over the telephone.

"He refuses," the other nurse said, as if that settled the matter.

"No vitals, no transfer," I asserted.

One of the reasons for requiring vitals is that the patient has to be able-bodied to be admitted to psych.

Eventually the vitals were faxed. The page was blank except for four numbers. No patient name. The date was "today." Literally "today." No month, day, or year. The health care provider was "doctor." Literally "doctor." No name. No signature.

I refused the paper and told them to print the vitals from their computer system. Psych does not have access and does not use the computer system, hence the fax requirement.

They faxed a printout. Blurry. Grainy. Not a single word or number could be deciphered.

I faxed it back to them. They claimed that my fax machine messed it up.

After I told them I was skipping to the next patient for the only bed available, magically the vitals were printed and faxed clearly.

The patient arrived healthy. His behavior, however, resembled nothing of the angel described in the notes.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

At first, she acted fed up and said, "Of course they knew! I am so sick of these people!"

Then she motioned me into her office.

"Listen," she ordered. "You were not on the schedule. You were on standby IN CASE somebody called out."

"I was not on standby," I corrected her. "You told me you were short even with my addition to the schedule."

"Yeah, well," she whistled through her mouth, "You were actually an extra nurse because someone usually calls out. Nobody called out, so you were lucky that the supervisor let you stay."

"I canceled my plans because you said you were 'so short' and 'desperate' and that I 'need to help on the weekends every now and then'. That was all a lie?" I asked.

She gave me a dirty look. "I said what I needed to say to get you to agree to come in. If you don't like it, well, honey, welcome to the real world. Get over it."

I was pissed. I felt duped. She was saying that it was my fault she had to lie to get me to do what she wanted me to do. Of course I would not cancel my plans and sit and home and wait in case they called me to come in. There is no paid on-call arrangement.

"Don't ever ask me to cover an extra shift or switch my day off again," I said.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Earlier in the week, the shift supervisor asked me to
cover the first shift on Sunday because so many people had already asked to be
off.

I take a fitness class on Sunday mornings, which I had to
cancel. Never cancel plans for this
place.

I thought I was being smart by asking to be off one day
during the week in return for working Sunday.
“So it actually doesn’t count against you as overtime,” I explained to
the supervisor, who eagerly agreed.

She confirmed with me on Friday that I was working Sunday
and told me that I was covering for Nurse Anna.
I took the additional step of contacting Nurse Anna, who was surprised
to hear that her request to be off had been granted.

Saturday morning, as I tried to sleep in, my phone buzzed
and buzzed with work calling. I have
learned to not answer when they call to force them to leave a voice message as
proof.

They were in a state of confusion, as usual, and said
that they did not understand why Nurse Anna was claiming that she would be off on
Sunday and I was covering when I was not on the schedule.

I called back and spoke to the supervisor, confirming
that I was working and Nurse Anna was to be off.

On Sunday morning, as I arrived to work with Nurse
Anna. “Why are you here?” we both asked.

“They said you were not coming and that I had better show
up,” Anna explained.

She should have fled instead of coming inside the
building. We went to her ward and began
working.

Immediately she started screaming that I was stealing
overtime, I am greedy, and that I should learn how to manage my money better so
that I don’t have to take other people’s money when they really need it. She screamed at Nurse Anna. She called the supervisor and screamed at
him. Then she left the ward, declaring
to staff and patients alike, “I am leaving.
Unlike that greedy woman, I am not so hungry that I would take food out
of a baby’s mouth.”

Nurse Anna and I felt relieved that the cyclone left.

Soon afterwards, she returned with the supervisor. “Nurse Mueller,” the supervisor said to me, “You
cannot just walk in here and take someone’s job. That is not right and you know it.”

“I was asked to work and assigned this ward,” I
explained.

“No, there is no record of what you say,” he countered.

“Yes, I have several voicemail recordings on my phone,” I
volleyed back.

This took him a moment to think of a reply. “Even so, we did not know if you were coming
to work or not, so the shift goes to a more reliable nurse.”

“When have I ever not come to work?” I tried. “Since when am I unreliable?”

“This shift was promised to Nurse Marie, so you must let
her work,” he decided.

“Fine,” I replied.
“But Nurse Anna wanted off, and the shift was also promised to me, so
instead of letting me go, how about you let Nurse Anna go?”

The supervisor was confused. “You are not going. We need you on another ward.”

Of course. The
busiest, highest acuity ward with lazy staff.
I passed medications the entire shift.
That is why Nurse Marie rejected that ward and wanted to switch with
me. And her wish was granted.

They did allow Nurse Anna to leave a little early. But I was sent to cover for her. “Oh no,” I warned the supervisor. “You are sending me back there because there
is no relief. I will be mandated to stay
over for the next shift, while Nurse Marie gets to prance out of here.”

“That would never happen!” the supervisor lied.

“It happened to two nurses yesterday!” I snapped back.

“We have coverage!” he insisted.

“I know how it works around here,” I continued. “You hold the shifts open until your buddies
decide if they want the overtime or not.
If they do, great. If not, no
problem. You just mandate the prior
shift to stay. This move is so
transparent- transferring me to a ward at the end of the shift just to mandate
me another shift- that I will have an excellent claim against this hospital for
violation of labor laws. Plus, I’m
covering two offices tomorrow and will gladly call out sick with a doctor’s
note for exhaustion.”

He probably didn’t understand a word I said.

The supervisor later returned to the ward to make sure
that I was transferring. As I handed him
the keys to the ward, he was surprised. “What
is this?”

“The keys. You are
the only nurse on the floor until someone returns from lunch,” I explained as I
walked away.

“You can’t leave this ward unattended!” he called after
me.

“I’m not. You are
here and are ordering me to go babysit another nurse on another ward,” I
answered.

“Where are the nurses for this ward?” he asked.

“Out to lunch, as I already told you. But we can’t leave your princess all alone,
so I have to go over there to work while she sits on her phone,” I explained and
left.

I ignored Nurse Marie the remainder of the shift. Patients kept coming up to me, asking me for
things, saying that Nurse Marie had refused them all day. Oh well.

The next shift did arrive, late of course, but I was
relieved of my duties. When they saw
Nurse Anna’s name on the report, they asked why she wasn’t there.

“She left early because she was supposed to have off,” I
explained.

“But she came in anyway?” one of them gasped. “That bitch.
She did that to steal your overtime, you know that, right?”

Saturday, May 20, 2017

I was preparing for a doctor's arrival when my supervisor, Linda, felt the need to enter the room and say, "I got everything ready for the doctor yesterday, but she did not come."

Linda had lent me out to another department the day before. She would not have done this if she thought this doctor was coming, because then she would have to help the doctor herself.

"I wrote on the calendar that the doctor is coming today for this week's visit," I responded.

"You are not to be believed," Linda said.

I stared at her. "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Linda said nothing.

"If you think every word I say is a lie, why didn't you call the doctor and ask her which day she scheduled?" I continued.

"I'm not going to bother the doctor just because you do not tell the truth to people," Linda answered. She turned to leave.

I called out after her. "If you thought I lied about which day the doctor was coming, you would not have let me work somewhere else. You would have kept me here to help the doctor. You are the one who is lying."

Linda left.

If she did set up for the doctor yesterday, she messed up. It's not a big deal. She would just have to put everything away. Someone else may have noticed, so to cover up her increasing forgetfulness, she said I lied about when the doctor was coming.

"How would you know? You didn't even look at the patient!" I countered.

"I don't have to," she muttered. "I am married. I have a husband. I cannot be looking at another man."

"You are a medical professional, supposedly," I clearly said to her. "You need to find a new profession if you think that looking at a patient's body is a violation of your marriage."

"It is against the Bible and God," she declared.

"You seem to have a fundamental misunderstanding of homosexual men," I said. "I won't even broach your misplaced reliance on God at this time. We are female. The doctor is female. The patient gets no thrill out of women looking at him."

The other nurse stood there defiantly.

"What is wrong with you?" I added.

She left.

Now for the record, if a heterosexual patient had a physical complaint, she probably would not have assessed the patient. She is lazy and has no nursing or people skills. If the painful lump were on the nose, she would not have bothered to look.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

One of the newer orderlies needs to find a new job because she is already doomed at this one.

Early on, she accused another orderly of sexual harassment. Their union took his side, as did the administration of the hospital.

I've worked with this male orderly and fully believe that he said and did what the new female orderly accused him of. He's worked at the hospital for decades and is one of the people who says and does whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and gets away with it every time.

She approached me upset, saying that the director of nursing held a meeting with her. She was next up for a full-time position, but because of her earlier sexual harassment complaint, she could not have full-time. "The two of you might end up assigned to the same ward, and we can't have Mr X working with the woman who tried to get him fired."

Sure, it's wrong. We commiserated together. This is retribution for making the sexual harassment complaint. The scheduling problem is ridiculous. Plenty of orderlies and nurses have long lists of people they refuse to work with; some are honored, some are not.

But the orderly has no proof that full-time is available and that it is being withheld because of the reasons given above. Hospital administration will not cooperate in producing such evidence, and the orderly's union will take her money but not speak to her.

My advice was for her to write a letter to the director of nursing with a copy to the union, accepting the full-time position, with mention of the possible scheduling conflict as something to be dealt with if it arises.

Now she has a dated letter floating around. It's either proof of the hospital's wrong doings or proof that she is delusional.

Of course the hospital did not respond in writing. Instead, the orderly was called back to the director of nursing's office and told that months ago, before the full-time offer was made, an employee complained that the orderly showed her a picture of a naked man in the parking lot. Because it was on hospital grounds, it counts as being at work, and that she is a sexual harasser.

Hold on. When I complained about the witch who went psycho on me in the parking lot, trying to use the incident to bolster my request that I be reassigned to a different area of the hospital, I was told that what happens in the parking lot has nothing to do with work.

The orderly denied showing a naked picture to anyone. We both agreed that if this was such an issue, it would have been addressed months ago when it supposedly happened.

I asked for the identity of the complainer and was surprised, not because she is nice, which she is not, but because she has no interactions with nursing. She works in a different building that handles billing and insurance matters. I only know of her because she parks in the fire lanes and sometimes has loud arguments with security about her right to do so.

"She has to be connected to someone and is cooperating with the hospital's plan to not give you full-time," I offered. Then it occurred to me. Her favored, albeit illegal, parking spots are on camera because they are next to the buildings. The woman refuses to walk far in her high heels. "If you showed her the naked picture in the parking lot, it's on camera."

We both smiled for a moment at the genius of this idea, but the reality of the circumstances soon hit us. "There is no way that the hospital will let you review months of footage to demonstrate that you and this woman never interacted in the parking lot. Your own union will take the hospital's side with such a request. Even if the hospital rescinds this complaint, they will invent another accusation against you to justify not giving you full-time," I told her.

"You need to get out," I continued. "Other people stay for the health insurance and tuition reimbursement, but you cannot even have that because you are part-time. All you get is a lousy paycheck, made less by the mandatory union dues- the same union that took someone else's side and now ignores you. This will not get any better. I speak from experience."

She agreed, but said she can't find other work. "I get it," I told her. "But you could probably make more money waiting tables in a diner. Run!"

My immediate supervisor, Linda, obediently runs to the meeting every morning, chastising me to "not be late." I would rather stay behind and enjoy twenty minutes without her.

For the meetings I attended, I "leaned in," sitting next to the medical director. But I didn't open my mouth. Not even once.

Well, I've attended my last meeting.

The door to the room stays open because people come in and out throughout the meeting as they get called away. Nurse Wilma usually sits near the door.

As I approached the doorway to enter, she slammed the door shut in my face.

SLAMMED THE DOOR IN MY FACE

I jumped back, otherwise, the door would have hit me. I lamented not being bigger and stronger. I could have stopped the door with my strong foot and then quickly flung it open, smacking Nurse Wilma in the face instead.

But I'm not big and strong. I'm little old me. I heard Nurse Wilma laughing, indicating that she did this on purpose and thought it funny. I tried the door handle. Locked. I heard the medical director call out, "Open the door and let her in!"

So I scooted out of there. I was halfway down the hall when I heard Nurse Wilma open the door and declare, "She's not out here."

I ducked into a room so nobody would see me if they poked their head out of the meeting room.

For the rest of the morning, I flitted around the hospital, checking on charts- one of my latest additional assignments.

As I left for lunch, my supervisor, Linda, questioned my whereabouts.

"After being physically ousted from the meeting, I worked on one of my other assignments," I said.

"Oh, yeah, I saw Wilma shut the door on you," Linda confirmed.

"Why didn't you open the door and let me in? I was a few steps behind you," I questioned, just to make her uncomfortable.

"I am not the one who shut the door," Linda replied. "What did you expect me to do?"

"Laugh right along with Wilma is what I expected of you," I said as I left for lunch.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Twice a year, a mobile service comes to the hospital to do
health screenings on the patients.

Last year, my supervisor, Linda, set up the dates for this year so that we would get the first time slot of the day. I specifically remember her doing this. She ordered me out of the trailer while she
spoke to the staff. When she emerged,
she proudly declared her foresight in setting up the appointments a year in advance
to get the choice times.

“When are the dates? I asked.

“That doesn’t concern you!” she snapped at me.

She didn’t write the dates on the master calendar or otherwise
convey them me.

On Friday, I answered the phone. The mobile service was calling to confirm
that they are coming on Monday.

I checked with my supervisor.

“No!” she shook her head.
“I did not set a date with them!”

“You did,” I countered.
“You didn’t share the date with anyone, but I remember you setting it up
inside the trailer.”

The issue with them coming with no notice is that we don’t
have time to compile the lists of eligible patients for the various tests, get
their written consent, and get orders from the doctors.

So the date was pushed back a few weeks.

Later, my supervisor asked if I was getting her emails. “No,” I answered.

“Well, I’ve sent out a lot about the mobile testing. I don’t want you going around and telling
people that I don’t send you emails when you are the one who refuses to receive
them,” the brat continued.

“Listen,” I said, “You can’t refuse to receive an
email. You do not understand how email
works, and I am tired of you telling people that I don’t read my email when in
actuality, you never sent me email.” Her
face was contorting into anger. “Show me
the email you sent me with my email address listed as a recipient.”

“Right here,” she declared, turning her computer monitor
towards me.

(She has not let me see her monitor in a very long
time. She turns it off if I enter the
room.) It was an email about the mobile
testing, signed from the both of us.

I pointed to the line of recipients. “My name is not here, so you did not send
this email to me.”

“Your name is on this email,” she insisted. “See?
It says, ‘From Linda and Enid.’
So you can’t say you didn’t get it.”

“First, typing part of someone’s name in the body of the
email does not generate a copy to that person,” I attempted to explain. “You have to go to the ‘To’ field and type
the email address.” She was not
following and instead was still with an angry face, as if all my words were
lies. I continued.

“Second, you do not sign someone’s name to a letter without
asking the person and sending them a copy, neither of which you did. If I had done this to you, you would have
reported me to the director of the hospital.
Again.”

As I turned to leave, she added more proof of her
stupidity. “It doesn’t matter that I
didn’t send it to you because it’s on the internet, so you can see it anyway.”

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Running a ward is not an easy job, except for Satan’s
favorite children who shirk responsibility and get away with it every time.

One of the tasks of the nurse manager of a ward is to review
the performance of the support staff every year. For Satan’s children, this is their
opportunity to reward those they like and strike down those they don’t like.

The clerk thought the review was inaccurate in that she is a
fantastic employee who works very hard.
The charts fall apart because other people drop them and she is not
their servant. Papers are misfiled because other people misfiled them.

I eavesdropped on the meeting with the clerk, nurse manager,
and one of the higher-ups. Predictably,
the nurse manager was wrong for giving the clerk a bad evaluation because
multiple write-ups are required before someone can get a bad score; otherwise,
the employee proceeds through the year, thinking their job performance is
great.

The higher-up changed the clerk’s evaluation to a perfect
score over the objections of the nurse manager.
The clerk joyously fled the room, screaming back at the nurse manager, “I told you I would win, you stupid bitch.
Now I’m going to tell everyone they were right about you. Go fuck yourself.”

The nurse manager said to the higher up, “See? This is what I deal with every day from her!”

The higher-up shrugged and said, “She’s just venting. What you did to her was wrong. Let it go and learn your lesson for a change. We are tired of fixing the problems you cause
on your ward. You need to get along with
your staff.”

The higher-up left the room, leaving the nurse manager
sitting there, dumbfounded.

I went in.

“You weren’t wrong,” I told the woman.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Here’s my advice, for what it’s worth,” I offered. “From now on, give every employee the highest
scores possible. You can’t win. They will not become better employees and
start treating you like a human being.
If anyone questions the perfect scores, tell them that all of your staff
embodies the values and behaviors that this hospital cultivates and rewards.”

She laughed.

“No, I’m serious,” I went on. “You make misery for yourself giving them bad
reviews. In any other place, such
behavior would merit termination, not a raise and a pass at coming in late and
cursing out your manager for the next year.
A perfect review does not translate into a lot of money. If a clerk or orderly is not at the top of
their salary grid, the most money they can get for an excellent review is
$500. It doesn’t come out of your
pocket. Let the company pay these
horrible workers a few extra hundred a year.
This is what they want.”